


You're not beyond saving

by Fluffy_Red_Panda



Series: Of feathers and Hopes [1]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angel!Au, Angel!Mikyx, Fallen Angel!Rekkles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffy_Red_Panda/pseuds/Fluffy_Red_Panda
Summary: Martin fell, and it's painfull. But luckily, he may not be as alone as he thought
Relationships: Martin "Rekkles" Larsson/Mihael "Mikyx" Mehle
Series: Of feathers and Hopes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195325
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	You're not beyond saving

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, I'm launching myself in posting a little thing that I wrote.  
> Please let me know what you thought about it :3

Another day went by. Another day where Martin had to pretend that everything was fine, that there was nothing bothering him at all. It couldn’t have been further away from the truth, but he had to keep up appearance. If not for the others, for himself at least. Because if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure who was the most disturbed by him— the people he was seeing each day, or himself when he was looking in the mirror. When he was seeing the ghostly form of his wings, dark, miserable, and different from what they used to be. Far too different now that they’ve lost their brightness and the radiance they owned before.

But after all, he deserved it. He had no right to complain about it. Absolutely no right.

The problem was that his wings itched. They itched so much that it was causing him physical pain, and making it challenging to stand straight. One day after the another, there was that quick yet burning flame lighting up between his shoulder blades. On the bad days, it could burn down his whole spine, leaving Martin laying in bed, breathing deeply to try to forget the pain.

He knew exactly why his wings were hurting. He could see it every time he took a look at their ghostly, once shimmering, shadow. He was no longer taking care of them. Not when they were a reminder of everything he’d done wrong during his entire existence, when every darkened and damaged feather was as painful to watch as the itch itself. Looking at them was like going for a trip down memory lane, dwelling on what he could’ve done better and why he deserved what happened to him.

Why he had fallen.

And he would continue to ignore it for as long as he would have to. He’d rather face the physical pain. At least, he knew what to expect, and painkillers were a life-savior to keep the “hey we’re hurting” far from his brain, too far for Martin to actually feel the pain. And even if he were to take care of his wings, there were some parts he couldn’t reach by himself. There was no way he would let anyone see them.

The knock on his door startled Martin. To be honest, he wasn’t sure for how long he had been zoning off, not really caring about what was going on around him. After all, he was at his place, the house he owned. It wasn’t really a home, and he wasn’t sure it would ever be. He got up off the couch he was on and walked to the door.

To his surprise, Mihael was on his doorstep.

“Can I come in?” he asked, voice calm and soothing as ever.

“Uh, sure?” Martin answered, and even he could hear the question in his voice. He wasn’t expecting Mihael to be here, and couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve motivated him to come this late.

Mihael was probably the only one here who knew exactly who Martin was. Or, more exactly, _what_ Martin was. After all, he was the one who caught him after the Fall. Not literally of course, but he was the one who found him, lost in the street without any real idea of what he was supposed to do now. And of course, Mihael was an angel. One of those pure beings with white and fluffy wings. Even his name was one of an archangel.

The Angel had been a lifeline for Martin after his Fall. When his whole existence collapsed, when all that he knew and the ones he thought were close to him just disappeared, it left him as lost as a newborn.

Mihael was the one who taught him the ropes about living on Earth, the one Martin called in the middle of the night when the mental strain was becoming too much. He had been nothing but the calm in the middle of the storm, that one anchor Martin had attached himself to.

Without Mihael, the fallen one did not know where he would be now.

And as he was stepping out of the doorway, making room for Mihael to enter the small apartment he was living in, Martin noticed the softness of his features: how the glasses he knew the Angel didn’t really need rested on his nose, his sweet smile, the fluffiness of his hair, the warmth of his hazel eyes. If he squinted his eyes a little, he could faintly see the shimmer of ethereal wings shining through the dimension.

Martin had stopped lying to himself a while ago now, stopped pretending that he wasn’t a little attracted to Mihael. Not when just being in the same room calmed his darkest thoughts, with how he could feel the waves of serenity that Mihael just seemed to radiate. He stopped denying that his heartbeat would speed up when the other would just smile or compliment him. The way that his soul hurt a little less when Mihael saw him as a person, rather than the failure he was facing each morning in his reflection.

But, despite everything, he never said a word. Martin was probably just another lost soul that Mihael was trying to save. No different from the ones that the Angel helped before. Mihael told him that being fallen wasn’t irreversible, that he would help him get through it. He didn’t think that Martin's case was different. He was just another lost cause. Martin was doomed to roam on this earth with his flaws and his regrets, a fair punishment for what he did. So why would Mihael see him in any other way than just the last soul he was helping? He was far out of Martin’s league (which currently included no one).

So he said nothing, and he was firmly determined to let things as they were. He needed Mihael in his life. If that involved being stuck in a one-sided relationship, so be it. He never had a chance to begin with.

“Can I get you a drink?” Martin asked, while Mihael was putting his coat away and making himself at home.

Which was a bit of an understatement considering he had spent a lot of time there.

But for once, there was a seriousness in Mihael’s expression, that Martin wasn’t used to seeing. A seriousness that came with worries, or at least that was how the Fallen one was interpreting it.

“No thanks,” was all Mihael answered.

The room stayed eerily silent for a second, as Martin was trying to decipher what Mihael was thinking. Without a warning, the angel made eye contact, locking the other one in an intense stare, as if he was trying to see beyond his eyes, to his soul. Then, a micro movement. Martin caught the tiniest stare of Mihael behind him, just above his shoulders.

Where his wings were composedly folded behind his back.

Suddenly self-conscious, Martin averted his eyes.

“How long has it been Martin?”

There was no judgement in Mihael’s voice. There never had been either. But Martin didn’t need more words to understand what the question was really about.

“Not that much, I can take care of myself you know? And—”

“Angel.”

Mihael cut him in the middle of his sentence, the nickname forcing Martin’s eyes up again. A nickname that he both cherished and hated, for it remembered him of what he used to be. But from Mihael’s mouth, it just seemed so sweet and affectionate that he couldn’t stop the warmth from seeping into his soul a bit.

“You know I can see them, right? Just as you can see mine.”

_Yeah, I’m constantly remembering what I lost._

Martin just wanted to hide right now, hide the wings that were behind his back, that he couldn’t get rid of. Hide the daily image of all of his mistakes day after day. Hide the image of all that he could’ve done better, or just done instead of taking everything for granted.

“Why would you look at them in the first place?”

_You know I hate it. You know I hate them._

Those were the words Martin wanted to say out loud, but didn’t. But, somehow, Mihael’s expression softened even more, focusing his gaze on the Fallen one instead of the damaged wings.

“Because,” the Angel started, taking a step towards him, “They are part of you, even if you hate them right now. They are a part of who you are, and I know how painful wings can get. I know the itch, the scratch that lies just here,” he continued, showing his own back, where his own wings joined. “And I know that you can’t reach there by yourself. That you can’t stand seeing their form in the mirror, let alone letting them out on this plane.”

Another step. Martin just silently watched as Mihael got closer to him, as if mesmerized by the other’s movements. Every word was striking true, not trying to be hurtful or anything, just laying down straight facts. Somehow, it hurt. Hurt to hear them out loud when he couldn’t even admit them to himself, preferring to ignore the subject as long as possible. But it was the first time that the Angel was speaking out the truth like that. Martin always suspected that Mihael kind of knew what was going on in his head, but he never expected it to be that precise, that accurate. And Mihael wasn’t done talking.

“You may think that you’re beyond saving, that there is nothing left for me to try and rescue as you lost your soul when you fell. That you may not believe me when I say that it’s not true, that your reflection is as you see yourself. It’s true, you fell. But falling isn’t the end. Only if you allow it to be. Which you actually are, because you forgot how to be kind to yourself. You made mistakes, everyone makes mistakes. But those mistakes aren’t you. They aren’t all that define you.”

“But what if they are?”

A broken voice, a crushed soul. Shattered wings. Shining, turquoise blue lost in warm hazel, trying desperately to find a link, an anchor. Something to keep him from drowning.

What if they were? Martin’s mistakes were the reason he fell in the first place. How could they not be defining when everything happened because of them? They were the reasons he found himself alone in the cold of a night, in a darkness so intense that no one seemed to be able to bring light to it. No one, except for Mihael. But even Mihael would see it soon. He would see that there was no point in wasting his time with a fallen angel weighed down by his doubts and self-hatred.

A soft touch on his cheek, a delicate thumb rubbing off the small salty pearls sliding across his skin. Once again, Martin found an anchor in Mihael’s eyes. Looking for every hint of disappointment, disgust, pity. Because that was all he could inspire right? He was pitiful, a living example of what you shouldn’t do.

But there was none of that.

Only support and affection. And once again, the Angel was seeing him not like a broken machine that couldn’t be fixed, but like a person.

“Maybe my words can’t reach you yet. Maybe you are hearing them, but not feeling them. And it’s okay. It’s okay to struggle, to have doubts. It’s okay to feel down. Remember that no matter what happens, I am here. You are not alone. You are loved, and deserve to be loved. Deserve to be cared for.”

Warmth. Warmth was wrapping Martin’s damaged soul as he put his own hand on Mihael’s, gripping it like it was a life-line. And maybe it was, the only constant in his now messed up existence, the only one making him feel less of a failure.

Another step closer.

Martin didn’t realize how close he was to the Angel. How easy it would be for him to lean just a little, eyes caught by the soft looking lips of the other. How simple it would be to just give in, snuggling against Mihael’s chest, letting him whisper that everything was going to be alright. And maybe this time he would believe him.

But that was a vain wish. One that he knew would never happen. Once again, why would someone as bright as Mihael let his own light be tarnished by Martin’s dust?

Softness. Unexpected softness. That's how it would feel if Mihael kissed him, putting one hand just behind his head, tangling his fingers into his hair. Like breathing oxygen once again after being underwater for so long. Love. Warmth. Support. The feeling of belonging somewhere, the thought of mattering to someone. Of course, that kiss would be too short as Mihael would pull away, living him in the coldest winter after the warmest summer.

“Sorry I… I don’t know why, I never should’ve done that. I mean… Probably not what you need right now huh? Let’s pretend that I did not do that okay?”

Wait what?

Martin opened his eyes, feeling his lips a little, and saw a very flustered Angel just in front of him. No wonder why he felt cold suddenly. Mihael took his hand back, scratching the back of his neck. Did he just really… Wasn’t it only Martin’s fantasy? Did it really happen?

“I’m so sorry,” Mihael continued, “I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage or anything it’s just that…”

“Why?” was the only word Martin was able to pronounce.

“I’m sorry I really should’ve asked you first it’s just that—”

“No, why me?” Because that was what Martin didn’t understand. Mihael could have everyone with his handsome looks, his caring and loving yet funny and easy personality. Why would he kiss Martin amongst all of them? A flawed, damaged fallen Angel?

“Is that really the question?” Mihael asked, not seeming to really believe it.

“Yeah, I mean, you could have anyone, I’m just a mess that you took under your wings so…”

“Angel, you’re so much more than a mess.”

Here it was again, the loving tone.

“As for why it’s you, you’re special. No matter how hard you try to deny it. You are an amazing person. I can see the kindness you have in you, the fact that you’d rather be unhappy and miserable than cause harm around you.”

“That’s not…”

“I know that it hasn’t always been the case. After all, you fell for a reason. I’m not blind though, I see you in a way that you can’t see yourself. I notice when you’re trying to tell me everything is fine, so you won’t bother me. But you’re never bothering me, because I truly care about you. Maybe a little too much considering the situation and I know that you may need more of a friend than anything else. I just... it was an impulse. You’re not alone. You’re not fighting alone. I’m here, by your side, and always will be. And maybe, I can help you realize that you’re not a lost soul beyond saving.”

Martin knew those words. Mihael had tried to tell him that for weeks now. But somehow, they hold a very different meaning this time. They were a little more true.

“Would you really have me?”

His voice was shaking, not daring to be too hopeful. Not wanting to be disappointed and be left hoping in vain once again. And yet, he couldn’t help but think of what it would be like.

“As long as you want me.”

Mihael’s tone was full of emotions. Raw and pure. Slowly opening his arms in a welcome gesture. And as Martin ran into them, cuddling up to the Angel, it felt better than anything he had imagined. Letting the tears fall as Mihael wrapped him in his arms, resting his own head on the blue-eyed man’s shoulder. Knowing, and feeling that he really cared about him, whispering sweet nothing into his ear.

_Let it go_.

Let all of it go, all the insecurities, the doubts, the pain. Let them go with the tears. Martin tightened his grip on Mihael’s shirt, feeling the strength of the other’s arms around him. Protecting him. From the outside world, but also from himself. A bubble out of time which felt safe for the first time since he fell.

Martin did not know how long they stayed like this, but it didn’t matter. When they parted, Mihael laid a soft and loving kiss on his temple, letting him know how much he cared. That this wasn’t a one-time thing, or something he would forget about. That this was real.

“Angel?” A sweet whisper. The first word in hours.

“Hmm?” was all Martin could answer, feeling drained and tired yet calmer than ever.

“Let them out please?”

What a way to bring down the mood. But seeing the look in the Angel’s eyes, Martin knew that there was no point in hiding them or trying to delay the moment. He sighed heavily, walking to the center of his living room. He needed a little space. But he also needed to stop thinking.

One swift movement and his shirt was gone, leaving him with his bare chest exposed in the middle of the room. Another deep breath, facing away from Mihael. He did not want to see his disgust at the obviously really poor sight that he was going to give.

A tiny pressure in his mind, and his wings expanded in all their length. He could see his reflection in the window. Far from clear, but enough for him to try and cover them. He began folding them once again, even if it physically hurt to do so. He did not want to see the damaged feathers, broken ones and ruffled, with dust and ash all over the once bright white wings. 

“Oh my… sweetheart…”

There it was. It hadn’t taken long but somehow, Martin had hoped that things would have been different with Mihael. He was obviously wrong and…

A warm hand against his back, right between his shoulder blades.

“Martin, look at me” the hazel-eyed Angel asked. “There is nothing to be ashamed of” he continued, as Martin locked eyes with the reflection on the window. All he saw was affection and love. Once again. “Your wings may not be the brightest right now, but they are damaged. Let me take care of them. Let me take care of you. Please?”

Once again, tears started to form at the corner of his eyes. Martin nodded slowly, the lump in his throat way too heavy for him to speak a single word.

“Can you sit on the carpet? You’re not exactly a short bean you know?”

A laugh. A laugh which gave comfort, and reassurance. Crossing his legs, he got comfortable on the floor, knowing that it could take some time. After all, it had been a while. Months even, since he last allowed someone near his wings. Firstly, because he was ashamed of them. Secondly, because it was an intimate process. To trust someone to take care of them meant a lot for winged people.

“It’s going to hurt a little ok?” Mihael said, kneeling behind him. “I need to remove your broken feathers and redress the others.”

Martin made a small hmm of acknowledgment. And it was indeed painful. More than once, he let out small whimpers of pain as Mihael was pulling out stuck feathers, breaking out the ones that were too damaged to regrow healthily. Little by little, the Fallen Angel could see the pile of dead feathers grow as the itch of his back got less and less present. As the quick yet short pain was smoothly appeased by Mihael’s loving touch and care. It became less pain, more relief, until all that was left were the knots of his muscles.

“Hey Angel, do you have anything to nourish and hydrate your feathers? I think it’s been too long, your wings need a little push to start nourishing themselves again.”

Oh. It was true that normally, wings were able to make an oil that would nourish the feathers, keeping them healthy, soft, and shimmering. But you needed to take care of them still and if you didn’t that was what happened.

“Not really…”

“It’s okay, I’ve got an idea,” answered Mihael.

The window did not give justice to Mihael as his wings extended too, shining and all their glory and might. So much brighter, so much purer than his own. Once again, Martin tried to fold his wings back, only for the Angel to put his hands back on his wings, preventing him from doing that.

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if you think that my wings are better than yours. Because it’s not true. We all have our own wings, and they are all unique. They are a part of us, reflecting who we are, or rather who we think we are. Now, relax and enjoy okay?”

Mesmerized, Martin watched as Mihael reached up, collecting the shimmering oil from his own wing, only to lay it back on Martin’s dry feather. Removing the knots with expert massage, like he’d done it all his life. The tension, the knots, the pain. All of this was fading away now, replaced by blissful contentment.

He didn’t realize Mihael was done until the latter pulled him back against him, leaning back against the couch. Folding Martin’s wings tenderly and leaving another soft kiss on his temple, Mihael started drawing random patterns on his shoulder, playing a little with his hair. It felt safe, calm and happy.

And maybe, maybe Martin’s wings got a little of their shine back, seeming less grey and dirty. Looking and feeling healthier. He smiled and calmness echoed in him as his eyes closed, his head resting against Mihael’s chest. Maybe, he would allow himself to hope this time. Just a little.

As Martin fell asleep, he heard a quiet voice.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to say a quick yet huge thank you to all of the wonderful people of the DS
> 
> Thanks to Nina and Radish for the bêta-reading  
> And thank you Soni for bringing me in that wonderful server.


End file.
